Review of ‘The Lost Library of Leake Street’: “Story-catalog play suffers from paper-thin narrative”

Waterloo’s The Glitch pub theatre welcomes a new anthological play combining fantasy, pathos, and Christmas magic. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show to let us know if this index of contents makes for a success in his book.

It’s a library with no books. Strange, I know. Then again, nothing can’t surprise in this day and age. And certainly, this one has been no exception — in case you were wondering, that shouldn’t be taken as either a compliment or a relief. The problem is not the absence of paper-based products. For the record, electronic versions aren’t featured either. In fact, the rough concept isn’t half bad. And I would dare say it is even close to entirely good.

A secret library located in the depths of some quiet, lost London street, with a bigger collection of junk than a first glimpse at Temu’s website. Every item has a story that only the chosen ones can learn and take home — in return for another personal tale of their own.

It’s an excellent framework brimming with opportunities. The premise is inviting. So are the characters. On the one hand, there’s this little girl trying to find a gift for her mother. She comes across a magical shop that will take her on an adventure. And throughout those flashes of escapism, she will eventually come to terms with the grief and loss she’s so desperately attempted to flee.

On the other hand, a middle-aged man lives a misanthropic life. Fate hurt him deeply in the past. And ever since then, he’s locked himself away from the world, dreaming of those memories that will never materialise again.

It’s an effervescent array of ingredients, but for some reason, the recipe fails to come through. Are the measurements wrong? Quite likely. Do they lack refinement? On a large scale. Does it feel undercooked? Completely. It’s not a rough idea but a raw one. The basics are there, but the elaborateness is severely missing.

Despite the reading we can take from the roles, even their archetypes come off blurred. They don’t showcase enough personality. Both have an interesting background, but neither of them does much with it. It doesn’t reflect their traits, which overall are flat and undistinctive.

We could have had a grumpy, cold man who’s later revealed to have a heart of gold, and who’s chosen distance as the only means to protect his frail soul. They could have given us an exceedingly enthusiastic girl who clashes with the older guy’s personality, and with whom, over that contrast, she finds common ground — and ultimately, a bond. From there on, it could only go up.

Beyond their backstories, the other recounts are hardly engaging. Even if they serve as allegories of what’s to come, their ability to keep the viewer hooked is limited, to say the least.

The staging may need to take some responsibility for this. Although it’s visually captivating to be surrounded by a 360-degree functional set, the absence of music and lighting cues to underpin key emotional moments contributes to the piece’s ongoing dullness — and sense that, most sadly, ends up defining a great deal of its essence.

The performances are adequate. Yet, none of them are compelling. Both actors play their parts gracefully, but they are incapable of bringing subtext or showing register. Consequently, our connection to the characters can only go so far. And wistfully, the length isn’t that impressive.

Despite an enticing front cover, The Lost Library of Leake Street should sit through more galley proofs before calling it a final edition. Although there is potential, the show keeps all its assets frozen — delivering something closer to a paperweight than a theatrical page-turner. Including a third act and making thorough amendments to the rest of the piece are imperative if they want the play to leave any imprint on its audience — and subsequently, not be put out of print.

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All pictures credit to Phoebe Dyer.

The Lost Library of Leake Street plays at London’s The Glitch until 22 December. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara